Chapter 1

For once, the weather was not gloomy.

A gentle breeze, wrapped in warm sunlight, drifted through the castle's open windows.

It dispelled some of the oppressive dampness of living by the sea.

Cyrus gave a little sneeze.

He drew his gaze away from a flock of seabirds passing outside the window and looked at Butler Johnson, a little over two meters away.

The old butler looked thoroughly bedraggled.

Disheveled strands of hair hung over his forehead, his clothes were wrinkled, and his hands were bound behind his back as he knelt on the hard stone floor.

He had been caught stealing his master's property and found guilty.

Now, weeping bitterly, he pleaded with Cyrus about their years together as master and servant.

He hoped to move the young master, who had inherited the title of count at just six years old, into sparing his life for the late count's sake.

"Creator God above, I sincerely repent of my sins..."

Having exhausted every ounce of his acting ability, old Johnson saw his young master, who had remained silent for a long time, raise a hand.

His expression brightened.

He thought things were finally taking a turn for the better.

Cyrus spoke in a slightly childish but unquestionable voice. "There's no need to say more. After all, this day next year will be the anniversary of your death. I don't want to hear nonsense from a dead man."

With that, he gave a slight wave of his raised hand.

The knight standing quietly to one side understood and stepped forward, dragging away old Johnson, whose face had instantly turned ashen with disbelief.

After the maid left as well, Cyrus was alone in the room.

He sneezed twice more despite himself.

The cold he had caught after falling into the sea had not entirely cleared up, leaving him with a mild headache and a stuffy nose.

Only after pulling a blanket over with his two little, slightly chubby, dimpled hands and wrapping himself up like a Russian nesting doll did Cyrus settle comfortably into the large chair and close his eyes.

"System."

[Zen System 098 at your service.]

A stick figure with the number 098 above its head popped out.

Cyrus asked, "Has the plot deviated?"

The stick figure pulled over a battery icon. It was empty, as though completely drained, and labeled "Plot deviation: 0%."

Cyrus sighed.

He had transmigrated into a novel.

A Mary Sue romance set in an unrealistic medieval Western fantasy world.

Naturally, he was not the Mary Sue heroine.

He was cannon fodder who appeared for a total of ten chapters.

Within those ten chapters, he made his entrance, acted like an idiot, courted death, and was finally convicted of sodomy, meeting a miserable end at the gallows.

He dutifully fulfilled his role as a vicious tool and a bulldozer for the plot.

Meanwhile, old Butler Johnson was the treacherous villain placing obstacles in his path as he bulldozed forward.

He manipulated, deceived, and seized power.

All that remained was to usurp his position.

Unfortunately for him, the title of count was inherited by blood.

After learning the plot.

The first person Cyrus dealt with was old Johnson, who had already been stealing the castle's property.

Yet the result was right before him: the plot had not deviated in the slightest.

According to the system's explanation, everything in the novel was predetermined fate.

For example, the heroine and the male lead were bound to end up together.

For example, Cyrus was bound to die.

Even if Cyrus stayed away from the heroine and escaped the gallows, he would still burn, drown, or be crushed to death in some accident afterward...

Unless he changed the fate of the world.

Clearly, bringing old Johnson's role to an early end was not enough to shift the world's fate.

Not even a tiny bit.

System 098: [The novel centers on the heroine and is written around her.]

[In other words, the worldlines beyond the heroine are incomplete and fragmented.]

[For example, the book mentions the East Continent only once, in two sentences, with no further description. As the host is on the Western Continent, you cannot find the East Continent, no matter what you do.]

[When the heroine dies, the world will collapse.]

Cyrus was not afraid of death, but he did not want to die because of some unrelated person's idiocy.

"What should I do?"

[This world has a fictional medieval Western setting, but fantasy and unrealistic elements have been added.]

System 098 gave an example: [In the real Middle Ages, people believed in God, with religions such as Christianity and Catholicism. This world has only the Creator God, the deity who created everything.]

[The Creator God cherishes the Divine Flower Belanka. Legend has it that those favored by the god can make the pure white divine flower bloom a vivid red.]

Some aspects differed from the real Western Middle Ages.

Yet there was also a considerable overlap.

System 098: [This world is undoubtedly as backward and ignorant as the Middle Ages.]

[In reality, the world continued to progress after the Middle Ages. Ultimately, that progress was driven by development. Host, please identify the essence of development.]

Cyrus said, "...Do you systems moonlight as political theory examiners?"

The stick figure tapped a blackboard: [It is the emergence of new things and the demise of old things.]

[098 has thoughtfully devised a strategy for the host to avoid death and pursue development: comprehensive infrastructure development.]

[Infrastructure, for short.]

[It will both avert your inevitable death and complete the worldlines, changing the world's fate of collapse.]

098's thoughtful strategy was indeed the best solution Cyrus could think of.

[Does the host accept: yes. No.]

"Yes."

The moment he spoke, the sight before him suddenly changed.

A three-dimensional map of the Western Continent slowly rose within the system interface.

There were seas, mountains, and rivers...

There were also two great empires, every smaller country, and cities...

[Illuminating the host's current territory: Visas (a rural backwater).]

As System 098 spoke, a remote little coastal city within the Gadayat Kingdom instantly shed its gray color and became vividly colored.

Above it were labels showing Visas's territory size, population, and other details.

System 098: [From now on, Visas will be the starting point of the host's comprehensive infrastructure development. The gray areas represent the future the host must strive toward.]

[Good luck, host. 098 believes in you.]

"..."

The Gadayat Kingdom was a small country occupying a tiny patch of the Western Continent's map.

Visas was a poor little territory on the Gadayat Kingdom's remote coast. No, a backwater.

The future he had to strive toward... was the entire Western Continent?

Cyrus felt his head ache. "You really do think highly of me."

He noticed the battery icon representing plot deviation in the upper right corner of the system interface.

Beside it was an icon of a white building.

It read "Reputation: 0."

"What's this?"

[In consideration of gaps in the host's knowledge, 098 has specially unlocked the Omniscient Library for you. The host may exchange reputation points for access to relevant books.]

[Note: reputation points can only be obtained within the host's territory.]

What was reputation?

It was the esteem in which others held someone.

In other words, it depended on how much the people living in Visas recognized him as their lord.

Cyrus Desinia's mother had died giving birth to him, while his father, Matt Desinia, had become obsessed with alchemy, neglecting the administration of Visas and raising taxes throughout the territory without restraint...

The already remote coastal "backwater" naturally grew even poorer and more dilapidated.

Matt Desinia's reputation was easy to imagine.

The commoners of Visas thought poorly of the entire Desinia Family.

After Matt Desinia died in an accident, Cyrus Desinia inherited the Desinia Family.

In the eyes of Visas's commoners, a little count of only six, who could not possibly achieve anything, was even less likely to improve their lives.

There was a heavy burden ahead, and a long road to travel.

Being able to exchange reputation points for relevant knowledge was good news for Cyrus.

The heroine lived in the Saint Airo Empire, one of the two great empires, which frequently clashed and fought wars with the Anas Empire.

As for the Gadayat Kingdom.

It was backward, poor, and unremarkable, waiting to be trampled and conquered by the cavalry led by the male lead.

Before the plot reached that point, Cyrus had plenty of time to build a foundation for himself.

It was a difficult start.

At least he was a noble with the title of count.

But even counts differed in standing, depending entirely on the location and size of their territories.

Visas ranked at the very bottom.

Cyrus took a deep breath. "No wonder I'm cannon fodder in the book."

System 098: [Host, is there anything else I can do for you?]

"Not for now."

After Cyrus finished speaking, the stick figure dragged a bundle out from beyond the edge of the system interface and slung it onto its back.

[In that case, 098 will go traveling. Activating offline automatic reply mode. If the host has any questions, please send a cosmic email to 098's cosmic inbox.]

Cyrus looked slightly dazed. "You? Traveling?"

[Correct. The universe is so vast, 098 wants to see it.]

[Rest assured, host. The return channel is fast and safe. 098 will bring you a gift when it comes back.]

Cyrus did not quite understand this system.

"Aren't you staying to supervise the progress of the plot deviation?"

[Please silently recite 098's full name.]

"...Zen System 098?"

[Please understand that 098 is the ninety-eighth system in the Zen series. It must uphold a Zen philosophy regarding the host's task. A Zen system must be free of desires and remain calm and detached. It does not supervise; everything depends on the host's self-discipline.]

"...What other series are there?"

[The Goofball series, the Big Spender series, the Edgelord series, the Pay-to-Win series...]

Cyrus said, "You sound relatively normal."

[Thank you for the compliment, host.]

The conversation ended with 098's departure.

A stick-figure avatar sat in the upper left corner of the system interface. He could click it whenever he wanted to send an email.

Cyrus opened his eyes. It was still sunny outside.

He threw off the little blanket wrapped tightly around him and stood up, holding on to the chair's back.

Standing on the chair put him high enough to gaze out at the vast, magnificent Cogit Sea.

Cyrus murmured to himself, "The marine economy..."

In the future, the most valuable and useful asset of the impoverished territory of Visas would probably be its rights to use the waters of the Cogit Sea.

The novel had described the Cogit Sea as the Western Continent's largest sea, connected to two inland rivers: the Volri River, which flowed through the Anas Empire, and the Aibuting River, which flowed through the Saint Airo Empire.

At the farthest end of the Cogit Sea lay the East Continent.

Cyrus's slightly short, chubby fingers slid across the chair's back as he considered this in silence.

Just then, the system let out a beep.

An email had arrived.

Cyrus was puzzled. Hadn't it only just left?

He tapped the constantly shaking stick-figure avatar.

The email popped up: [Dear host, I forgot to give you your transmigration bonus. The bonus for choosing the infrastructure strategy is a natural asphalt deposit on Par Mountain, which borders Visas. Attached is a map marking its exact location.]

A JPG image followed.

Cyrus paused. "A natural asphalt deposit."

He knew what that was: a waterproofing and corrosion-resistant material widely used in civil engineering.

He had to admit that the system's gift was extremely practical.

The only question was how he could bring Par Mountain within the boundaries of Visas and make it his private property.

Staring at the gray Par Mountain on the map, Cyrus sank into thought.

He set the question of Par Mountain aside for the moment.

Cyrus summoned the young maid, Kelly, and asked, "Where is the person who rescued me from the sea?"

Kelly looked uneasy, her sweaty hands clutching at her skirt. "My lord, he's in prison."

Cyrus frowned slightly, making Kelly even more nervous.

The swift, decisive punishment of old Butler Johnson had made her realize that the little count before her was different from the old count, who had been so obsessed with alchemy that he ignored every matter of the castle's administration, great or small...

She was somewhat worried about the innocent Judas Jansen.

Cyrus Desinia had been swept away by the waves because he had been too caught up in playing, and because old Johnson had been careless and failed to watch him properly.

Several footmen had accompanied them, but Judas Jansen was the only one who had plunged into the water without hesitation to save him.

After being rescued, Cyrus Desinia had suffered a persistent high fever.

In an age when even a minor illness could claim a life.

Judas Jansen had been convicted.

His crime: failing to rescue the young count sooner, causing him to fall unconscious with a high fever.

It sounded ridiculous, but such a charge was perfectly valid throughout the Western Continent.

Noble privilege came before everything else.

The lives of commoners and slaves were beneath notice, worth no more than dust.

Judas Jansen should never have been convicted.

But if Cyrus Desinia died, old Butler Johnson would be the first to face the consequences. Naturally, he needed a scapegoat to shift the blame and escape punishment.

One rung higher in the hierarchy was enough to crush those below.

Judas Jansen had no way to fight back.

Cyrus had not expected him to be in prison. "Have someone bring him here."

"Yes, my lord."

Judas Jansen was soon escorted into the room and made to kneel on the cold floor.

His two days in prison had probably been unpleasant.

He looked pale, his lips were cracked, and a little stubble had grown on his chin. Yet his hair was neatly combed back, and though his clothes were somewhat dirty, they had few wrinkles. They merely clung to his body from the damp.

He had kept himself presentable. The fabricated charge had not broken his spirit, either. His expression was composed, without a trace of fear or unease.

Cyrus withdrew his assessing gaze, changing his original plan to give him a reward and let him go.

"Your name."

The childish voice rang out.

Judas Jansen raised his eyes slightly; he had kept them lowered since entering the room.

He saw the young count sitting in the middle of a spacious chair, his feet dangling above the floor. The feverish flush had vanished from his round cheeks, replaced by a healthy color.

"Judas Jansen, my lord."

"Do you want to clear your name?"

"I can give you a chance," Cyrus said.

Of course Judas Jansen wanted that. "Please tell me what I must do, my lord."

"Stay by my side and attend to me. If I am satisfied, you will naturally be cleared of all charges."

"...Yes, my lord."

Judas Jansen found this request rather strange and puzzling.

It was far too easy.

After all, serving the count was already his duty and responsibility.

As a second footman, he had previously been ineligible to serve the count directly. His main duties had been cleaning the castle and working the fields.

The work was the most exhausting, and the food was the poorest.

Yet attending the young count constantly, though it required his utmost attention to every detail, came with far better treatment in every respect than before...

Especially since the young count had become well-behaved and composed after his brush with death, never deliberately making things difficult for him.

He gradually settled in.

Judas Jansen became increasingly adept at his new duties.

As for Cyrus, he had confirmed his impression.

Judas Jansen truly was an attentive man who carried out his work conscientiously and steadily.

He observed Cyrus's habits upon waking and before bed, silently committed them to memory, and arranged everything thoughtfully and appropriately.

He paid attention to what Cyrus intended to do each day, learning about it in advance so that he could answer immediately when asked.

Judas got along well with all the castle's servants, and his conduct and etiquette were impeccable.

Moreover, he had saved Cyrus without hesitation and remained composed even after being imprisoned, taking care of his appearance rather than allowing himself to look bedraggled. Those were the main reasons Cyrus had changed his mind.

During this time, Judas also gave him a surprise.

"You can read?"

Cyrus was somewhat astonished.

Judas had quickly sorted and organized all the books he had accidentally knocked onto the floor.

"Yes, my lord. My great-great-grandfather was granted the title of baron," Judas answered.

On the Western Continent, noble titles were hereditary. Only the lowest rank, baron, could be granted through merit.

Apart from that, commoners had no opportunity to rise in status.

Being able to read was a rare accomplishment.

Being granted a barony was rarer still.

To have gained it and then lost it, his family must have undergone some tremendous upheaval.

Judas Jansen now had no relatives, only friends.

Cyrus had no intention of reopening his wounds.

No wonder he was unlike an ordinary footman, and so well versed in etiquette.

The assessment was over.

Cyrus asked outright, "Would you be willing to become the Desinia butler?"

Judas's pupils trembled.

He had neither expected nor been prepared to hear those words. The leap from second footman to butler was considerable, and for a moment he stood rooted to the spot in astonishment.

But he quickly recovered and bowed his head. "I would, my lord."

Sunlight streamed through the windows and reached every corner of the room, bright and warm. Even the tiny motes of dust drifting in the air were clearly visible.

Cyrus sat upright in his chair, seemingly enveloped in a golden glow. He extended his hand. "From today onward, your allegiance belongs to me."

Judas knelt on one knee, gently supporting the small, pale, chubby hand as he brought it to his forehead. In a soft, reverent voice, he said, "I will always be loyal to you."